


Good Luck Charm

by jskd4



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Bullying, Childhood, Elementary School, Gen, Lucky Items (Kuroko no Basuke), One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25733572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jskd4/pseuds/jskd4
Summary: The story of how Kerosuke came to be in Midorima's possession.
Kudos: 2





	Good Luck Charm

_“How unfortunate! Cancer is in last place today. Be careful on your commute, and make sure to bring your lucky item for the day: a green-colored present!”_

Six-year-old Shintarou stared at the television in dismay. Last place! He already dreaded going to school most days, but an unlucky day would, without a doubt, make things much worse. And how was he supposed to get a present? His birthday wasn’t for another month.

Still, he had no choice but to somehow obtain a green-colored present, or else the day was sure to be a complete disaster. Shintarou shuddered at the thought and considered his options. He didn’t think his classmates spontaneously gave gifts to their friends, so that was out. Besides, Shintarou had no friends yet. It had only been two months since he entered first grade, after all.

Not that he had much chance of ever making friends, considering… no, he wouldn’t think about that. There was still a lucky item to be found.

“Good morning, Shintarou,” his father greeted, hurriedly packing his lunch into his bag on his way to the door.

Midorima Ryouhei was a busy man, and for good reason. He was a very good doctor, and according to Shintarou’s mother, that meant working hard to help sick kids feel better. Shintarou hoped that he would be as successful as his father one day, although his future career plans were not on his mind at the moment.

“Good morning, Dad,” Shintarou quickly greeted back, then proceeded to the urgent matter at hand. If anyone could solve his dilemma, it was sure to be his father. “Dad, do you know how to get a present?”

“A present?” His father looked up from buckling his shoes and glanced at the television screen. “Ah, today’s lucky item?”

Shintarou nodded. “I don’t know how to get a present, because it’s not my birthday or anything. And if I ask you or mom to buy me something now, then it’s not really a present. But Cancer is ranked last today, so I really have to find one…”

The elder Midorima considered this, nodding seriously. “I see. That does seem like a difficult situation. Hmm.” Then his face brightened, as if an idea had popped up in his head, and he said, “Shintarou, why don’t you try looking in the cabinet under the kitchen sink? I have to be off to work now, but you should find a useful package there.” His father winked at him, wished him a good day at school, and rushed out of the house.

Shintarou stared at the closed door for a moment, then turned to the aforementioned cabinet with equal amounts of doubt and hope. What on earth could be in there? Curiosity burning, Shintarou ran over and pulled the cabinet door open with so much speed that the door nearly knocked his glasses off.

He collected himself and peered into the dark cabinet. Towels, gloves, trash bags, and an array of miscellaneous cleaning supplies were all he could see. Shintarou frowned. He didn’t see how any of this could help him find his lucky item.

Slowly closing the door in disappointment, Shintarou took one last look into the cabinet. A flash of bright green in the far corner caught his eye. It was irregularly shaped, but there was red ribbon tied around what appeared to be green wrapping paper. Heart racing, Shintarou reached in and extricated the small package from the maze of cleaning materials.

He immediately recognized the wrapping as his father’s work and couldn’t help but smile. Jagged edges of wrapping paper peeked out from under three layers of Scotch tape, the long red ribbon tied like shoelaces around the mystery gift.

Turning the package over his hand, he was surprised to find a hard rope-like object beneath the wrapping. Shintarou only hesitated for a moment before carefully pulling off the ribbon and removing the tape, taking care to minimize damage to the green paper.  
A few seconds later, a real stethoscope, forest-green to match his hair, laid on the kitchen tiles before him. Shintarou beamed. This definitely would count as a green-colored present — and a good one at that.

For four entire periods, everything goes perfectly. With the green stethoscope safely stored in his desk, Shintarou makes it through Japanese, music, math, and P.E. without incident. Curious eyes fix on him when he brings his lucky item to the track, but luckily the teacher captures everyone’s attention before anyone can tease him about it. When he manages to win the class footrace, Shintarou even attracts looks of admiration from several of his classmates.

He should’ve known that the peace wouldn’t last.

The class was cleaning up after lunch, and Shintarou’s group had been assigned to bring the dishes back to the kitchen. Upon returning to the classroom, Shintarou sat down at his desk, peeked inside by habit, and gasped. His lucky item was gone. He frantically bent down and scoured every corner of his desk, checked his pockets, and searched the floor, but all in vain.

Shintarou heard a loud snicker. His stomach plummeted. He slowly sat up and locked eyes with the source of his torment for the past two months. 

Takata Osamu was a stocky boy exactly the same height as Shintarou, a fact that apparently justified his immediate dislike of his green-haired classmate. This ill-will had been steadily increasing as it became clear which boy was superior in both academics and athletics. Today, he lost to Shintarou in the 100-meter dash by more than just a few seconds, a humiliation which he was eager to erase.

“Looking for something, Four-Eyes?” Osamu smirked and whipped the stethoscope out from behind his back, dangling it just out of Shintarou’s reach.

Shintarou glared at him and quietly said, “Give it back.”

“Or what?” Osamu sneered.

“Just give it back!” Shintarou repeated, glaring at the bully.

Osamu’s eyes glinted dangerously, and before Shintarou could react, his precious new stethoscope was soaring in an arc across the classroom. It landed in the hands of one of Osamu’s followers, a rather plump boy called Nobu.

Shintarou’s heart pounded. He angrily stood and advanced towards the boy, but found himself face-to-face with Osamu.

“You might’ve won the footrace, Four-Eyes, but you couldn’t even compete with Nobu in the ball-throw, could you?” Osamu gloated and gestured towards his friend. “Nobu already practices on a baseball team.” 

Shintarou felt a ball of dread settle in his stomach. A quick glance informed him that their teacher had just stepped out. Resolving not to let his uneasiness show, he narrowed his eyes and said through clenched teeth, “I don’t care, Takata. Give my lucky item back. Class is about to start.”

Osamu stared back at him in contemplation. For a second, Shintarou thought he might actually comply. But without warning, the bully turned to Nobu and shouted gleefully, “Show Four-Eyes how far you can throw, Nobu!” 

All eyes turned to watch as Nobu drew back his arm, shiny green stethoscope balled up in his pudgy hand, and threw with all his might. 

The lucky item flew out of the third-story window, glinting in the midday sun like a tiny star before disappearing into the branches of a large tree.

Shintarou stood frozen in shock and disbelief for several seconds, unable to move or think. Then a wave of panic and rage crashed over him, and before he knew it Osamu was pinned against the chalkboard. He raised a hand high in the air and started to bring it down, hard.

“MIDORIMA SHINTAROU-KUN!” His own shock was reflected on the homeroom teacher’s face as she rushed into the classroom. Shintarou’s hand froze, centimeters from Osamu’s quivering face. “Let go of Takata-kun at this moment! What on _Earth_ do you think you are doing?”

He released Osamu, who immediately scuttered away in fear, mind blank with panic. Shintarou couldn’t believe he had done that. He had _never_ hurt anyone before, and he had been about to hit a classmate. Now he could never become a great doctor like his father. Oh, what was his father going to say? 

“Midorima-kun, come with me,” the teacher beckoned him towards the door. “Takata-kun, you too. Don’t hide behind Nobu-kun.”

Shintarou gulped and followed her out of the classroom, staring at his shoes. 

“Can you boys explain to me what just happened?”

“Midorima attacked me!” Osamu exclaimed, pointing a finger at Shintarou.

Shintarou’s head snapped up. “I — that’s because you threw my lucky item out the window!”

“My friends and I were just joking around, Sensei. We didn’t mean to make him upset, I promise,” Osamu said earnestly. 

The teacher sighed. “I think I see now. Takata-kun, it is not nice to take away other people’s things, understand?”

Takata nodded. “Yes, Sensei!”

“Now, Midorima-kun,” she began. Shintarou held his breath. “What did we learn about solving conflicts?”

“Use my words…” Shintarou mumbled.

“Right. You didn’t use your words, did you?”

“But —”

“No buts, Midorima-kun. Even if Takata-kun does something that isn’t nice, you should never use your hands. Violence is never the answer, Midorima-kun.”

Osamu flashed a smug look at him, and Shintarou’s guilt was replaced by hot anger. “Sensei, I did! I told him to give it back!”  
“And then you decided to hit him when he didn’t? No matter what, that was wrong.”

 ** _Wrong._** Shintarou couldn’t reply to that. He looked down, eyes stinging. 

“Alright, please apologize to Takata-kun, and then you may both return to your seats. Also, Midorima-kun, you will be assigned extra cleaning duty today.”

Shintarou stared at her. “Only me?”

The teacher’s expression darkened dangerously. “Midorima-kun, I do not appreciate this attitude. It was wrong to hit Takata-kun. You must take responsibility for your own actions, okay?”

“I didn’t even hit him! Takata actually told his friend to throw my lucky item away!”

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. Please apologize now.”

Shintarou was so angry that he couldn’t even speak, let alone apologize to a jerk like Osamu. It wasn’t fair that he was the only one being punished, when Osamu was the one who started the whole thing. Shintarou did feel bad about how he had acted, but now the guilt had been completely eclipsed by the overwhelming sense of unfairness. Every time Osamu did something mean, the teachers let him get away with it just because he behaved well in front of them.

“Now, Midorima-kun,” the teacher ordered impatiently. “Class is about to begin. You wouldn’t want to hold the whole class up, would you?”

Shintarou gritted his teeth and turned to his bully. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you,” he bit out, the words sticking in his throat like thorns. Shintarou didn’t wait for Osamu’s response and went back into the classroom, pushing past a crowd of curious onlookers to return to his seat. The tears began to fall. Mortified, Shintarou put his head down on his desk, hiding his face with his arms.

It really was the worst day for Cancers.

Shintarou somehow made it through the rest of the school day without getting into any more trouble with Osamu. After completing his extra cleaning duty, he trudged out of the school building and made his way to the line of trees where his stethoscope had disappeared. Shintarou searched and searched, sullying his clothes with dirt and twigs, but in vain. After scouring the entire area for nearly half an hour, he was forced to give up and head home, no lucky item there to protect him.

Given the disastrous situation, Shintarou took the safest route he knew, one that passed by his favorite playground. 

Unfortunately, Oha-Asa was determined to punish Cancers today, especially those who were foolish enough to lose their lucky item. Shintarou was walking past the aforementioned playground, despondently staring at his feet, when a large rock flew from the direction of the swingset and bounced across the pavement in front of him.

“Oi, Nobu, what was that? You missed the freak!”

Shintarou halted in his tracks and looked up to meet Osamu’s glinting eyes. He drew himself up to full height. “Why are you here? Isn’t your house the other way?”

Osamu sneered at him. “I don’t answer to freaks. Did you enjoy cleaning the toilets?”

“Hmph.” Shintarou turned away. He refused to be provoked a second time.

“Hey, don’t run away so fast. _We_ won’t hit people for no reason,” Osamu called after him. 

Shintarou kept walking.

“Weren’t you looking for this?”

He stopped and turned around.

Osamu now stood on the pavement, his group of friends flanking him on either side. He held out Shintarou’s stethoscope, which no longer looked new at all. “Well, don’t you want it?” Osamu beckoned Shintarou closer.

Shintarou hesitated. He did, in fact, want it very badly. But he also was not stupid. He knew that Osamu was simply luring him within hitting distance, since none of those boys were fast enough to keep up with him if he ran.

“Come on, Four-Eyes. I’ll give you three seconds.”

Don’t give in, Shintarou told himself. 

“THREE.”

He scanned the group. None of them were holding more rocks, so they couldn’t possibly do anything at that distance.

“TWO.”

A horrible thought came to Shintarou. What if—

“ONE. Time’s up, Four-Eyes.” Osamu dropped the stethoscope on the ground. He shrugged and turned to his friends. “Looks like he doesn’t want it anymore. You guys can play with it now.”

Shintarou watched in horror as Osamu’s friends pounced on the lucky item, kicking it around like a crude toy and grounding it against the concrete with their shoes. He took a few steps forward, then stopped himself. He wouldn’t fall for it. He would somehow get it back later, and then he could clean all the dirt off.

There was a sharp crack, and one of the earpieces snapped off. Osamu gleefully sent the scrap of plastic flying towards the playground with a kick.

Shintarou’s feet moved by themselves. He was too angry to care now. When he was a few feet away, two of the boys detached from the group and ran towards him, grinning. Shintarou braced himself, but they ran past without touching him. A second later, he felt hands grab onto his backpack.

Roughly yanked backwards, Shintarou lost his balance and fell heavily on his bottom. One of the boys pulled the backpack’s flap open. “Let go!” Shintarou yelled. “Don’t touch my stuff!” He tried to twist away, but the other boy pushed him back down.

Osamu approached, leering at Shintarou in smug triumph. “Sensei won’t be happy, you know, if the oh-so-smart Midorima Shintarou doesn’t turn in his homework tomorrow.” He held out a hand, and the boy digging through Shintarou’s backpack handed him a practice book. “Let’s see… we were supposed to do page 11 today, right?”

At this point, two things happened in quick succession.

First, Shintarou elbowed the boy behind him in the stomach, freeing his backpack from further violation. He lunged at Osamu.

Second, Shintarou had scarcely taken one step when a small, dark-haired girl came barreling from the direction of the playground. She leaped up, feet nearly clearing Shintarou’s shoulder-level, and snatched the practice book from Osamu’s hands.

Both boys stared in bewilderment as the girl landed with a roll, drew herself up to her full height, and brushed the dust from her clothes. 

The girl levelled a frigid, electric-blue glare at Osamu as she sized him up — which Shintarou found rather amusing, given that she barely reached their elbows.

Once Osamu recovered from the shock of her sudden appearance, he snapped at the girl, “What are you looking at me like that for? And give that book back to me, it’s not yours!” 

The girl stared at him impassively, then told him in a flat voice, “It’s not yours either.”

Osamu turned red. “ Little kids should just stay out of the big kids’ business!”

A flash of contempt crossed the girl’s face, and she turned away from him. She held the practice book out to Shintarou. “Here. Yours.”

Shintarou blinked and took his book back. 

“And whose is this?” She reached into her pants pocket and showed him a jagged piece of green plastic. It was the broken bit of his stethoscope.

“That’s—” Shintarou started.

“Just a piece of trash,” Osamu interrupted, storming towards the girl. “You messed up my game, midget.”

The girl looked around at Osamu’s friends, at Shintarou’s opened backpack, and finally at the battered remains of the green stethoscope. “Game?” 

“That’s right, midget,” Osamu cracked his knuckles, looming over her. “I’ll show you what happens in my game.”

Her returning gaze was as cold as ice.

“O-oi, Osamu,” the boy who grabbed Shintarou’s backpack spoke up. “She’s just a little girl, you don’t have to...” He trailed off at a withering glance from Osamu and inched behind Shintarou.

Osamu reached for the girl’s shirt collar. He grabbed at air. Then he let out an undignified cry as he crumpled to the ground, his knees forced into flexing from fast kicks to the popliteal regions.

This time, the diminutive girl towered over Osamu. He looked up at her apprehensively. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

Osamu’s face turned from red to white. He scurried backwards, away from the girl, on all fours. Hurriedly standing up, he yelled, “Come on, let’s go! Leave them to do whatever they want! Who cares anyway?” He turned tail and fled from the scene, his gang of friends following close behind.

The little girl stuck her tongue out at their retreating backs.

Shintarou wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or embarrassed, but at that moment the former took precedence. He opened his mouth to thank his tiny savior — only to see her bolt off towards the playground without a second glance at him.

He sighed and stuffed his practice book back inside his backpack. The green stethoscope, dirtied and chipped, laid forlornly on the asphalt. The girl had dropped the broken earpiece next to it. After a moment of hesitation, Shintarou gingerly picked both up, dusted them off, and placed them in his bag as well.

Shintarou gave the scene one last look and continued towards home with a heavy heart. His father was sure to ask what had happened, and then he would have to explain about Osamu again, and then his father might get involved with his teacher, and then things would only get worse.

At least he hadn’t fought with Osamu’s group. If he had, he’d be too ashamed to face his father. It was all thanks to that strange girl, Shintarou supposed. She couldn’t have been older than three or four. A wave of fresh embarrassment coursed through him. Rescued by a preschooler! 

As Shintarou silently berated himself, quick footsteps sounded behind him. For an awful moment, Shintarou thought it was Osamu back for revenge. He whirled around, ready to defend himself. 

It was the girl. She sprinted up to him, holding an oddly shaped green object nearly the size of her head. 

Upon closer inspection, Shintarou saw that it was a large, green porcelain… frog?

The girl held it out with both hands. “You can have Kerosuke if you want, since he’s green like your stethoscope and your hair.”

“Kerosuke?” 

She nodded. “That’s his name.”

Shintarou stared at her in wonder. “You know about Oha-Asa?”

“Oha… Asa?” she tilted her head quizzically. “What is that?”

“Oh.” Shintarou tried not to be too disappointed. “It’s a TV program. I’m a Cancer.”

“You mean your star sign?”

He nodded. “What is yours?”

“Aquarius,” the girl answered, looking slightly confused. “Do you want Kerosuke or not?”

Shintarou hesitated. He usually didn’t get along with that particular sign — Osamu was Aquarius. Plus, his father had taught him not to take other people’s things. He told the girl so.

She thought for a second and replied, “It’s not a problem if it’s a gift, right?”

Shintarou slowly affirmed this.

The girl nodded decisively. “Then Kerosuke can be a present. If you have this, that kid won’t bother you again.” The corners of her lips turned up slightly at that. 

He wondered just what on earth she had whispered to Osamu. 

“Here you go, then. A good luck charm.”

Shintarou carefully took the porcelain frog into his arms. “Thank you,” he murmured, the tips of his ears tinged with pink.

The tiny girl nodded. Then, just as abruptly as she had appeared, disappeared, and reappeared, she turned and dashed off without a word.

He stared at her quickly retreating figure until she vanished behind a corner. Shaking himself out of his wonder, Shintarou allowed himself a small smile and set off for home, hugging his new good luck charm against his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited draft.


End file.
